


We Drown Our Sorrows In Blood (While Our Sorrows Drown Us)

by HeadphoneArcheologist



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Death, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadphoneArcheologist/pseuds/HeadphoneArcheologist
Summary: Garreg Mach Monastery has suffered a great loss following what was meant to be a happy month full of merriment. Grief affects everyone differently, but for someone who spent a majority of their life feeling almost nothing... they just might be crushed by it.The Golden Deer can do nothing but watch helpless as grief destroys their beloved professor.
Relationships: Golden Deer Students & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	We Drown Our Sorrows In Blood (While Our Sorrows Drown Us)

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my friend who beta'd this for me despite knowing almost nothing about fire emblem.
> 
> The inspiration behind this story:  
> During my first play through of Three Houses following this part of the game I had my students battling almost every week in order to get through all the paralouges and quests I had let build up. It got me thinking about why Byleth might do something like that and the obvious answer given what had happened was grief.  
> This entire fic pretty much boils down to 'what if Byleth reacted really badly to the death of Jeralt' so this might be a bit out of character for Byleth.
> 
> It's not going to get very shippy but they'll have their moments.

Grief hangs heavy over Garreg Mach as both the monastery and the officers academy mourn. The light carefree joy of just a few days ago has been entirely suffocated by the recent tragedy, making memories of the recent ball feel a lifetime away.

Jeralt Eisner, though a strange and eccentric man to be sure, had earned the admiration of many within Garreg Mach. Despite how little was known of the man behind the mystery, Captain Jeralt undoubtedly touched many lives. Even those who knew him from only a single afternoon in the training grounds mourn him like a lost friend.

No one is more harmed by his death than his surviving daughter, Byleth.

Claude expects the professor to take some time off to recuperate. The stoic captain being her only family, no one would blame her for needing some time to grieve in private. However his professor once more surprises him. The day after burying her father she goes right back to work.

Not once has he seen her take a break. If anything Byleth seems to be pushing herself to work even harder. During classes and training sessions she instructs them as if nothing had changed, except everything has changed.

Within the span of a single day Byleth has gone back to the day they met her, as if all those months spent getting her to come out of her shell were meaningless.

It’s been a week since Jeralt’s death and Claude is genuinely starting to worry.

Evidently he isn't the only one.

Claude hadn't meant to eavesdrop on professor Hanneman’s conversation with Byleth, but he just happened to overhear and neither has noticed him so far. His curiosity roots him to the spot as he lingers near the classroom door just close enough to avoid being seen while still within earshot.

“Professor perhaps you should take a break” Hanneman says, “Manuela and I would be more than happy to take over some of your teaching duties for the time being.”

Byleth doesn't even look up from the papers covering her desk. The quill has stained her fingertips black. “That won't be necessary.”

Hanneman sighs, “Very well, but do let me know if you change your mind.”

She doesn't reply.

As he leaves the classroom, Hanneman notices Claude standing just outside. Unsure what to say, Claude doesn’t say anything. He isn't sorry for listening in and any apology he made for it would sound insincere at best. Fortunately Hanneman doesn't give him a lecture. He merely pats Claude on the shoulder as he passes by without a word.

Once Hanneman is out of sight, Claude peers around the door frame and into the classroom once more.

Byleth looks impossibly far away, hunched over her desk like the shadows around her shoulders are crushing her beneath an impossible weight. Not even the light filtering in from the windows can do anything to ease that burden. All the warmth is gone from her.

Byleth Eisner might as well be part of the cold stone wall behind her.

Longing aches in Claude's heart.

It's strange but he misses her, even when she's there right in front of him.

-

Claude makes it his mission to see Byleth smile again. He tries telling jokes and pulling pranks in the hopes to see even a hint of emotion on her face. So far he has yet to succeed but that has only spurred him on further.

His efforts do not go unnoticed by his fellow classmates, who each make an effort to support their professor in whatever ways they can.

-

Lorenz cannot stand idly by and watch as Claude repeatedly makes a fool of himself. Of course Claude has always been rather obnoxious in his pranks, but he has gone to extremes as of late. Lorenz is no fool, he knows this is simply an attempt to gain the professor's attention or perhaps distract her from the recent tragedy but that does not make it any easier to watch.

While his actions come from a place of genuine care, it is still quite embarrassing. As a noble, Lorenz cannot allow such fumbling endeavours to be the only effort made by The Golden Deer to offer their support to their professor.

As such he has resolved to express his sympathies in a manner befitting a noble. Perhaps some of his classmates will follow his example rather than attempt to imitate their eccentric house leader.

Before classes are set to start, Lorenz simply strides up to their professors desk and bows his head. “Professor Byleth I would like to formally offer my condolences. Your father was truly a valiant man. He will be surely missed.”

Silence.

Byleth stares blankly back at him for so long that sweat starts to gather at his temples. It's almost appalling how long it takes her to offer a stiff “thank you” in response.

The poetic flow of his words fall on deaf ears.

-

Marianne is all too familiar with grief. She wants to offer Byleth some kind words that might help her through it, but she is certain anything she says will only make it worse.

As she gathers flowers from the greenhouse, Marianne tries to imagine what she might have said if she had more courage. She plays entire conversations as she picks herself up, dusts off her skirt, and makes her way to the monastery's modest graveyard.

By the time she is standing before Jeralt's grave, Marianne is all the more certain that saying nothing is the right choice. Even in her imagination her words do nothing but cause more pain.

Perhaps her help cannot be spoken, but even someone as worthless as her can at the very least offer a simple prayer. “Dear goddess... please watch over professor Byleth.”

She kneels once more in the dirt, and lays the flowers over the grave with the utmost care. There she bows her head. “I pray that Jeralt's soul has found peace in the next life.”

The wind gently blows around her.

Pulling herself to her feet, Marianne brushes off her skirt again. 

When she turns to leave, she notices Byleth standing at the top of the stairs.

Marianne immediately drops her gaze to the ground. She's quick to make her way up the stairs, determined to get out of Byleth's way as soon as possible. “Good evening professor” she manages to mutter as she passes her by.

Byleth says nothing in return.

Marianne sighs.

She shouldn't have said anything.

-

Lysithea approaches Byleth after their classes have finished for the day. While she is not without sympathy for the professors loss, the situation has clearly gotten out of hand. Byleth is overworking herself to deal with her grief, and it has begun to negatively affect the class.

If such behavior continues Lysithea shudders to think of the potential consequences.

“Professor, I'd like to speak with you if that's alright.” Lysithea keeps her back straight and crosses her arms over her chest. It’s something she’s seen adults do when they want to be taken seriously. 

“Lysithea I'm rather busy-”

She is in no mood to listen to excuses. “Which is exactly what I wish to discuss. It would seem you have been quite busy as of late and I would like to offer my assistance. With another set of eyes and hands I am certain your work could be done in half the time.”

“I appreciate the offer but-”

“If you are worried about my intellectual capacity to handle the work of a teacher, I can assure you I am more than capable.”

“I'm not worried about that,” Byleth insists, “you are very intelligent Lysithea, which is why you should focus on your studies.”

“But Professor I-”

This time it's Byleth who interrupts. “Sorry, but I need to speak with Alois. Good day Lysithea.”

Byleth leaves before Lysithea even has a change to further argue her point. She bites back the urge to scream.

It would be rather childish of her.

-

Raphael catches the professor by chance. As he is heading toward the dining hall he just so happens to see Byleth walking in the opposite direction. Without hesitation he calls out to her; “Hey professor! I was just about to get some dinner, you should join me!”

She pauses her steps but doesn’t alter her route. “I'm on my way to the training grounds. Perhaps another time.”

Normally he might have let her be, but honestly, he's worried about the professor. Not once has he seen her in the dining hall this week! He's always thought she doesn't eat enough for all the work she does, but these days it's like she's running on the goddess's favor alone! It's just not healthy!

“Well you can't work out on an empty stomach, come on!”

“Thank you Raphael, but I have to decline.”

Raphael's smile drops. “Oh... well I can bring some dinner to your room later if you want. It's not good to go without eating!”

“I'll be fine” she says, dismissing his concerns without giving him a chance to fight. Byleth continues on her way as if their conversation hadn't happened at all.

Raphael almost reaches out to physically stop her, but she's already out of reach.

-

Hilda lingers in the classroom as her classmates gather their belongings and filter out. Most of The Golden Deer have made some attempt to get Byleth to relax or at least take a break, but none have been successful.

It's a bit of a pain, but Hilda figures she might as well make her own attempt. The professor has done so much for them after all, and it won't do for her to overwork herself. That and Hilda really likes professor Byleth and doesn't want to see her sad anymore.

She waits until they are alone in the room before she bounces up to Byleth's desk, projecting as much cheer into her voice as she possibly can. “Hey professor, I was thinking about maybe taking a trip into town. You should come with me! It wouldn't do for a sweet delicate flower like me to go out without an escort.”

The professor looks up for only a moment before her eyes are once more drawn away. “I'm rather busy. I'm sure Raphael would be happy to escort you, or perhaps Ignatz.”

“Come on professor!” Hilda whines, “taking one of the boys would be boring! It's more fun when it's just us girls right?”

“Leonie then. I really am busy.”

Hilda falters and her smile cracks. Byleth has never spoken to her in such a clipped tone, not even when she might have deserved it. Hilda tries to fix her smile but can't quite manage to make the illusion perfect. Not that it matters. Byleth isn't even looking at her. “Okay... well maybe next time then professor!”

Hilda's steps are slow and methodical as she leaves the classroom.

-

It isn't uncommon for The Golden Deer to accompany their professor to fight some bandits or other such tasks. However, lately it seems that all they do is fight, like Byleth is trying to meticulously take out every single bandit in all of Fodlan single handed.

After nearly two weeks of constant fighting, Claude is left wondering how there could possibly be any bandits left for them to fight.

Exhaustion is wearing them all thin, but still the deer continue their efforts to bring a smile out of Byleth. Claude would applaud their determination if seeing their disappointed faces each time they fail didn't break his heart.

Claude sighs and pulls a book from the library shelf. His heart isn't in it as he thumbs through the pages, unable to comprehend a single word he reads. Another sigh and he pushes the book back onto the shelf.

The library hasn't offered much insight, not that he expected it to. People are often more complex than books make them out to be.

Claude leaves the library and starts back to the dorms. The late hour gives the halls of the monastery a haunting feel. He can almost understand why Lysithea doesn't like to go out at night. Even he isn't unaffected by the creepy atmosphere.

How many ghosts must roam these halls? A building this old... so many secrets...

A faint light from the open infirmary door is the only sign of life. Claude slows his steps as he draws closer, and ultimately stops just outside the door.

How wonderful it would be if faith could heal grief.

Manuela notices him hesitant outside the infirmary and waves him inside. “Hello Claude. You look like you have something on your mind. I'd be more than happy to listen if you need someone to talk to.”

“Thanks but I don't think talking it out will help.”

Manuela smiles sadly at him. “You're worried about the professor aren't you?”

Claude doesn't reply but he doesn't have to. Manuela can certainly read the answer in the way the false cheer in his expression chips away.

“Give it time” is her advice, “everyone grieves differently.”

If he could, Claude would give Byleth all the time in the world to work through this sorrow that has taken hold of her heart; but seeing her so broken and distant is slowly killing not only her but The Golden Deer with her.

All the fighting and the blood... Practical battle experience Byleth calls it, but it's becoming more and more obvious that this is just how their professor grieves.

-

Time passes with no change.

Even professor Manuela starts to look at Byleth with anxiety.

-

Another day, another opportunity for practical battle experience. Claude's muscles ache from the draw of his bow string and the weight of the ax Byleth insisted he learn to wield back before all of this started. 

The sounds of battle have faded on the soft wind; their enemy defeated, for now.

Claude looks out across the battlefield. Marianne stands beside Hilda, casting a heal spell to stitch together the broken skin at Hilda's right hip. Meanwhile Lysithea does the same for Ignatz, accompanied by a stern lecture to be more careful in the future. Raphael is dragging Lorenz inelegantly to his feet. Lorenz is quick to straighten out his clothes, looking disgruntled by the rough treatment. Leonie laughs at the both of them while Flayn trails behind her, attempting to help with a twisted ankle, while Leonie insists she is fine.

Some of the tension eases from Claude's shoulders. They are all still in one piece, but he can see that they are starting to tire in the way they hold onto one another. They have enough energy to laugh and joke as his deer do, but their movements are sluggish and their smiles dim.

Byleth is not among them.

Claude scans the environment for their professor, finding her standing among the dead. She viciously pulls her sword from one such corpse. The blood stains are difficult to make out on her black coat, but stand stark against her pale skin. A spattering of red covers her neck and cheek like a sweet if horrific kiss.

He calls out to her, “Hey Teach!”

Byleth turns toward him, and he falters. There's something wild and untamed in her gaze. She looks at him without actually seeing him. He shivers. “We're done for the day,” she says.

Claude's heart sinks.

The Golden Deer drag themselves back to the monastery in total silence.

Normally Claude would be right at Byleth's side as they travel to discuss tactics and the like. Today he watches her walk ahead, with Hilda's arm thrown around his shoulders and most of her weight pressed into his side.

Claude misses her. Goddess does he miss her.

This cannot go on.

As soon as they are back within the walls of Gerrag Mach, Byleth takes her leave of them. She bids them a curt goodnight before heading off toward the dorms, though Claude suspects she will spend the rest of the night in the training grounds.

Hilda pinches his side and he flinches. It takes a great deal of effort to drag his gaze from Byleth's retreating form to see the concerned looks each of the deer give him. Claude offers them a smile, “come on, the dining hall should still be open.”

A hot meal won't solve their problems but it will do them some good.

Flayn however, doesn’t join them. “As much as I wish I could join you, I must go and see my brother. I bid you all a good night and sweet dreams.”

The Golden Deer wave as Flayn heads off.

Not a single student remains in the dining hall by the time they stumble their way through it's doors. Together they gather their food in somber silence before settling down at one of the large banquet tables.

Claude sits himself across from Raphael, who has both Leonie and Ignatz leaning against him on either side. Meanwhile Hilda is leaning heavily against Marianne to Claude's right, while Lorenz smoothly takes the seat on his other side. Lysithea sits beside Ignatz and stubbornly refuses to lean on his shoulder though she occasionally droops toward him like a wilted flower.

“Well are we finally going to discuss the situation with our professor?” Lorenz asks.

Raphael looks up from his food with alarm, “wait there's something wrong with the professor?”

“Obviously” Lysithea snaps. Her words are dulled by the exhaustion in her voice. “If we allow this to continue one of us is certainly going to be killed.”

Claude can only imagine how it would break Byleth if one of them died under her care.

“One of us should talk to her” Hilda suggests while sleepily nuzzling her cheek against Marianne, “like, actually talk to her. If we could just get her to open up a little we might be able to help her.”

Marianne shifts slightly moving both away and toward the cuddly girl next to her. “What if she doesn't want to speak with us?”

“Then we'll keep trying until she does” Hilda says, “I'm sure if it’s Claude doing the talking she'll come around eventually.”

The rest of the deer nod absently and Claude is left feeling like he's not in on the joke. “Why me? I mean I'll do it, anything to help teach, but there's probably someone else who could get through to her better.”

It's not like Claude is the poster child for being open about his feelings. Anything he says to Byleth will just make him look like the world's biggest hypocrite; he's given her no reason to trust him with her secrets when he can't even trust her with his own.

Still Hilda persists; “no it should be you. You and the professor have a... special sort of bond. If she's going to open up to anyone it's going to be you.”

“Special bond? I dunno Hilda, I'm pretty sure she treats all of us equally.”

Ignatz removes his glasses and sleepily rubs at his eyes,“no she certainly has a fondness for you. She cares about each of us a great deal but the two of you seem to gravitate toward each other.”

That can't be true... sure Claude is curious about her, so he tries to spend as much time with her as possible but that doesn't mean he's any closer to her than the others. 

“I have to agree,” Lorenz chimes in, “the professor's smiles are all the more radiant when you are around.”

“And you were the first to get her to laugh,” Leonie adds.

That's only true because Claude was persistent. It's hardly proof of some unseen bond between the two of them. He grins carelessly at his classmates, “well sure but that's only because I tell the best jokes.”

“You really don't,” Hilda assures him.

Claude sticks his tongue out at her.

Lorenz looks appalled, so Claude sticks his tongue out at him next.

The outraged noise Lorenz makes is worth the kick to the shin he gets from Hilda.

Lysithea tosses her hair over her shoulder with a huff. “It's obvious the professor holds you in high regard and you think the same of her. So stop being a child and just talk to her!”

Claude holds his hands up in surrender. “I will, I will! All I'm saying is that we should all try speaking with her, not just me.”

The rest of the deer grumble various affirmations.

With that decided they finish their dinner in silence and then hobble off to bed.

-

Sleep doesn't come easy that night as Hilda's words echo in Claude's mind.

A special bond…

His heart aches despite how Claude tries to bury the feeling growing in his chest.

-

Leonie should have known it wouldn't be easy talking with the professor.

She storms out of the training grounds with tears stinging the corner of her eyes and rage curling her hands into fists. It was just supposed to be a simple training session, something Leonie and Byleth have done dozens of times before and yet somehow it had all gone so wrong.

The blank look on Byleth's face as Leonie shouted at her sticks in her mind. Despite her efforts she cannot shake it. How could Byleth not care? How could she act like this when Jeralt...

Leonie scrubs angrily at her eyes. She hates that she's crying more than anything.

Distracted she barrels right into Claude, nearly knocking the young lord over. He catches himself just in time to avoid kissing the stone path, no thanks to Leonie who is too shocked by his sudden appearance to help him stand.

Goddess she's a mess.

The sympathy on Claude's face is too much for her. She turns away, still furiously wiping at the tears on her face. “What do you want Claude?”

“I heard you arguing with Teach... she... she suggested I come talk to you.”

Leonie feels a fresh wave of anger come over her thinking about Byleth, but that anger is soon washed away with guilt. “I lost my temper” she admits, “I just don't understand! Captain Jeralt is dead and she doesn't even seem to care!”

“It's because Byleth cares that she acts like this.”

Leonie can’t understand that. If she cares so much then why doesn’t she show it? “Doesn't she know how lucky she was? She got to grow up with Jeralt, and she got to see him everyday. How can she just act like nothing happened? If he were my dad I'd be inconsolable.”

Claude touches her shoulder, “that's just it Leonie. She isn't you.”

-

Lysithea gives herself a couple days to devise a strategy after Leonie's disastrous attempt at talking to the professor. Clearly a delicate touch is needed here, so she brainstorms everything that cheers her up when she is sad and cross references that list with every social activity she can think of that encourages discussion.

From there she devises the perfect strategy.

Cake.

Which is how she finds in the kitchen after hours, braving the darkness, carefully measuring sugar into a bowl.

“Um... do I even want to know what you're doing?”

Lysithea jumps, spilling some of the bowls contents onto the counter. The irrational part of her brain chants ghost on repeat. Fortunately all she sees when she turns around is Claude. Of course it wasn't a ghost! Ghosts aren't real.

Right.

Claude grins at her like he can read her mind. “Sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

Lysithea scowls and goes back to work. “You act as though I am plotting something nefarious. Need I remind you Claude that unlike someone, I'm not inclined to slip poison into food I intend to serve.”

“Ouch that really hurts my pride you know.” Claude leans against the counter near her, “although that doesn't explain why you're baking sweets in the middle of the night.”

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously the cake is for the professor. No one can resist something as delicious as cake, and speaking over a meal is likely to be more successful than any other approach.”

Claude actually looks impressed at her strategy, as he should because it's a brilliant strategy befitting someone of her intellect. “Huh... I didn't think of that.”

“Of course you didn't. Now if you insist on bothering me, you may as well make yourself useful and assist me.”

Surprisingly, he agrees without complaint. “Alright, just tell me what to do.”

Interesting… Claude truly is devoted to helping the professor. Lysithea wonders how she didn’t see the depth of his feelings before now.

The cake turns out passable despite Claude's absolute lack of baking skills. Although he does surprise Lysithea yet again with his apparent eye for decorating. She found it strangely endearing to watch him apply the frosting with the kind of care rarely seen from him.

Sadly their efforts go to waste. Byleth refuses the sweet treat when Lysithea attempts to offer it to her the next morning.

Dejected Lysithea offers the cake to Claude instead. “It would seem not everyone is as easily swayed by sweets as I thought.”

With a sympathetic smile, Claude brews a pot of tea and they eat the cake together.

It's not quite enough to lift Lysithea's spirits but she's happy to know their efforts weren’t entirely wasted.

The cake is still delicious.

-

Raphael carefully balances two plates in hand, each piled high with food. It takes some careful maneuvering to knock on the professor's door without spilling anything, but Raphael manages after a moment or two of fumbling.

If his muscles are good for anything, it’s carrying food without spilling!

The door opens and Raphael grins. “Hey Professor! I brought you some dinner since I didn't see you at the dining hall today. I wasn't entirely sure what to get you so I brought a little of everything! I hope that's okay.”

Byleth looks between the plates in his hands. After a moment of thought she takes both plates and retreats back into her room with a soft thank you.

Raphael has never been good with words, but this is something he can do. Taking care of people comes easy after years of looking after his little sister. So he'll leave the talking to his classmates, and in the meantime he can make sure their professor gets enough to eat.

-

Ignatz hesitates in the courtyard. His palms are sweating, and the canvas he’s holding is starting to slip from his grip. With his free hand he reaches up to adjust his glasses for the hundredth time today. 

A moment passes; he tries to appreciate the beauty of the monastery but finds it impossible to focus on the pleasant scenery. Even the flowers in the grass aren’t enough to rip him from his anxious thoughts.

He bites his lip, and reaches up to adjust his glasses again only to have his hand slapped away by Lorenz.

“Ignatz you gain nothing from hesitation” he says.

If it were only so easy to simply stop. He glances down at the canvas, and tries to slow his breathing. “But... what if she doesn't like it? I'd hate to make the professor feel worse.”

“It's a thoughtful gift. I am certain our professor will appreciate the time and effort you spent on her behalf.”

“But-”

Lorenz keeps talking as if Igantz isn’t even there. “It is truly an exquisite painting. As the artist you have every right to present your work with pride. Now here’s your opportunity. The professor has just finished her meeting with Seteth.”

Byleth enters the courtyard from the cathedral looking poised and focused as ever. In contrast Ignatz feels like his heart might burst from his chest in his panic. What he wouldn’t give to have some of Lorenz’ endless supply of confidence. 

He absolutely cannot do this.

“You can and will do this,” Lorenz assures him in no uncertain terms. 

Goddess give him strength. 

Mustering all of his courage, Ignatz nods and makes his way toward Byleth. “Ah, professor! May I have a moment of your time?”

For a second he is certain she'll say no, but to his surprise she nods her head and allows him to catch up to her. Perhaps he’s been worried for nothing, she’s clearly open to speaking with him so that must be a good sign.

The thought stays with him for only a moment before he is once again consumed by fear.

What if she hates it?

Before he can second guess himself into oblivion, he opens his mouth and simply speaks his mind. “I-I painted something. For you! You don't have to keep it if you don't want to but...” 

Clearly talking was a bad idea, so Ignatz clicks his jaw shut and simply hands the canvas over.

Byleth takes the painting and looks over the surface. 

She goes completely still.

Ignatz didn't have many opportunities to observe Jeralt while he was alive but there were many people within the monastery who did. It took several interviews with a dozen different knights to get all the details right, or at least as right as possible. The final product might not be entirely accurate but Ignatz did what he could.

The professor still hasn’t said anything.

“Um... professor?”

She flinches almost violently at the sound of his voice. He stumbles backwards a step in surprise. For a while she merely looks at him, her eyes appearing misty but he could be mistaken. Eventually she looks back down at the painting. “I... thank you” she says, her voice just as stiff as her posture.

Byleth walks off without giving him a chance to say anything else.

Ignatz feels his shoulders droop. “I knew it was a stupid idea...”

-

Claude can't get Hilda's words out of his mind even days after the fact. They haunt him when his guard is down and follow him throughout his day. Having a bond with Byleth… that’s not a bad thing. She has the sort of power he’ll need if his plans to change the world are going to succeed, so keeping her close is a strategic move on his part.

It’s not what she said exactly that’s bothering him, it’s the way Hilda said it, like she was implying more than she was saying. 

Maybe it would be easier to brush it off as Hilda being Hilda if the rest of the deer hadn't immediately agreed with her.

What makes it worse is that Claude can’t exactly argue with them either.

Without his notice Byleth has slipped past his defenses and become someone important. Someone he can't stand to see hurt. How deep those feelings run... he doesn't know, but it bothers him. Both because he still knows so little about her, and because his classmates were easily able to see something he couldn't.

He’s been avoiding the professor while he sorts through his thoughts, but he knows he can’t hide from her forever. After all Claude promised the deer he’d try talking to her.

It’s the middle of the night but it’s not like either of them are known for keeping regular hours.

Tracking Byleth down takes a lot longer than he expected. It figures that when he's trying to avoid her she's everywhere but the moment he tries finding her she's nowhere to be found.

Eventually Claude finds her near the monastery's pond. She's standing at the edge of the dock looking down into the water. No one else is around, which is probably why Byleth is even here. She looks hauntingly beautiful, like the silver moonlight reflecting off the water.

Hilda’s words whisper in his ear and he has to shake himself to chase them away. Claude takes a deep breath before he approaches her. “Hey Teach, fancy meeting you here.”

Her shoulders twitch. “Claude” she says, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge his presence. 

A shiver works down his spine.

Strange.

Has his name always always sounded like that? 

Focus. He needs to focus. Just get her to open up a little, it can’t be hard. “I was just walking by and saw you here; thought I'd come see how you're doing.”

“I'm fine.”

The words are empty and hollow. 

“Right...” Has it always been this difficult to talk to the professor? Being sincere doesn’t come easy, but for her he tries. “You know... it's okay if you're not fine right? The Golden Deer, we're here for you. Whatever you need, we've got your back.”

Predictably she repeats herself. “I assure you, I'm fine.”

Unwilling to back down, Claude presses further. “Okay but-”

“I said I'm fine!” She snaps.

Her outburst breaks the peace of the night and Claude takes an involuntary step back. He's never heard her raise her voice like that. Even when she’s barking orders at them in battle she doesn’t sound like this.

He should have backed off.

Byleth turns and walks away.

Claude lets her go.

-

“Marianne!”

Hilda's anguished cry echoes across the battlefield above the clash of swords and the screams of the fallen.

Claude takes his eyes off the professor and urgently scans the field, praying that today isn't the day he loses one of the deer. His thoughts fill with images of Marianne dead at the end of a sword, or a lance, or perhaps with an arrow in her chest.

His gaze falls on Hilda first as she cuts her way through every enemy standing between her and their healer. She falls to her knees at Marianne's side, who appears to be injured but still alive. She's far closer to the front lines than she should be, but with the way Byleth charged right into the center of the battle there would have been no other way to keep her within healing range.

If she dies...

“Lysithea! Marianne needs assistance!”

“I'm on it!”

Ignatz falls into step beside Lysithea to keep her safe, while Raphael moves in to help Hilda protect their injured classmate.

Distracted Claude almost isn't fast enough to avoid taking a lance to the gut. Exhaustion has made his reflexes slow, as if he's aged decades in mere months. He’s only just fast enough to draw his bow before the enemy cavalier can take another swing at him. 

By the time the battle comes to an end, Claude feels like he could sleep for years and still be tired.

The moment he is able, Claude makes his way to Marianne along with the rest of his classmates. Thanks to Lysithea's efforts, she's back on her feet, but the blood covering her dress goes to show how close of a call it was. If Lysithea had been a moment too late Marianne might have died.

Byleth is the last to approach them.

For a brief moment a flicker of emotion passes over her expression, but it's gone too fast to identify. “Is everyone alright?”

Leonie winces as she shifts her weight. She’s bruised but otherwise looks fine. “For the most part, but I think we could all use a break.”

“Stragglers from the battle have retreated to the forest.” Byleth says, “we can't leave until we've taken care of them.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument.

For his deer Claude tries anyway. “Are you sure that's wise?”

Their eyes meet and the air between them is tense. The wounds from their last conversation are still fresh. “Would you rather leave the bandits free to do as they wish?”

Claude sighs, “of course not, but we can't keep going on like this Teach. We've been fighting constantly and if this keeps going someone else is going to get seriously hurt. Next time we might not make it in time to save them.”

Byleth's gaze flickers over the deer once more. For a brief moment Claude thinks he might have finally gotten her to listen, but his hopes are crushed as she turns her back on them. “Then go back. I can handle the remaining bandits on my own.”

“Teach-”

He tries to hold onto her, but as usual she slips away.

Lorenz slides off the back of his horse. He stumbles doing so, but no one mentions it. They are all too tired. “Well, what should we do?” He asks, breaking the silence. 

“I hate to turn up a chance to retreat, but we can't just let her go off on her own.” Hilda groans, leaning against her ax.

Lysithea nods. “I agree. In her current state of turmoil, the professor could easily be caught off guard by a cunning opponent.”

Claude shudders to even consider it.

“As much as I don't want to leave the professor behind, what about Marianne?” Ignatz asks.

The class goes quiet. Of course they are all worried about the professor, but that worry also extends to Marianne who is barely able to keep her feet under her.

Claude weighs his options. To protect the deer he should send them back to the monastery. No one but Marianne appears seriously injured but if the last fight was anything to go by it's only a matter of time. On the other hand Byleth could just as easily get hurt fighting bandits on her own. She's a powerful warrior no doubt but so was Jeralt.

“One of us could help her back to the monastery.” Leonie suggests.

“No I'm okay” Marianne insists, “I... we can't let the professor get hurt.”

“Are you sure?” Hilda asks.

Marianne nods. “I'm sure. I don’t want the professor to be hurt because of me.”

The deer turn toward Claude.

“Well alright then. Let's go get our Teach, we'll go back to the monastery together.”

-

The retreating bandits have taken refuge in the nearby forest, which is where The Golden Deer find their professor. In the time it took them to catch up, Byleth has already decimated the enemy forces in a brutal and one sided battle.

Quickly the deer jump in to help, but it's fairly obvious that Byleth would probably have been fine on their own.

Claude never takes his eyes off the professor.

Byleth has always cut down her foes with a frigid sort of indifference. Blood slides off her skin no different from water and the carnage never seems to touch her. It used to unnerve Claude to watch her kill without even batting an eye.

There's a ferocity to Byleth now that he isn't used to seeing. Rather than her typical calm, unbridled fury drives her movements like she's reveling in every fallen enemy.

If watching her fight once unnerved him, Claude feels actual terror wrap like a vice around his heart looking at her now.

Within minutes the fight is all but over.

Only the commander remains.

The sword slips from his hands as Byleth stalks toward him, her own bloodied weapon held tight in her grip. The man backs away from her, pleas falling from his lips, but his words don't reach her.

“Please spare me! I don't want to die!”

Byleth strikes the man down with a single savage blow that nearly cleaves his body in two.

The commander's blood becomes indistinguishable from the red already covering the battlefield.

Claude looks away.

-

The deer go their separate ways after returning to the monastery. Claude himself hesitates at the gate, watching Marianne and Hilda make their way toward the infirmary. They chat quietly with each other, though it's clear from the slur in Marianne's voice that she is a moment away from sleep.

They got lucky today.

Lorenz speaks up from his right; “how long do you intend to stand by and let this continue?”

He doesn't know.

-

Sleep becomes a rare commodity for the deer. Even on days when they are too tired to stand, sleep remains just out of reach. Claude hardly even bats an eye anymore when he notices his classmates are still awake during his nightly visits to the library.

On one such night, Claude happens to notice Hilda and Raphael in the dining hall. They both have plates of food in front of them, but neither make any move to eat it. They speak in hushed voices, but the absence of ambient noise makes it easy for Claude to listen in.

“Hey Raphael, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I've never been better.”

“Are you sure? You've hardly eaten anything tonight! Normally when I look over you're already done with your plate before I've even started.”

Raphael looks down at the food he's pushing around his plate. “Oh... well I guess I'm not really hungry right now.”

“See that doesn't sound like you at all! Are you sure there's nothing on your mind? I'd be happy to listen if it would help.”

“I guess I'm still a little shook up from the battle the other day. Seeing the professor like that... I just can't get it out of my head.”

Hilda rests her free hand between his shoulder blades and rubs his back. “I know what you mean.”

“Are things ever going to go back to normal?”

“I think so, we just need to give the professor some time and support her as best we can.”

“Yeah... thanks for listening, Hilda.”

“It was my pleasure.”

As Raphael starts to actually eat his dinner, Hilda turns her head and meets Claude's gaze in the dark. She doesn't look surprised at all to see him there. Not a word is said between them, but the look in her eyes is enough.

A moment later Hilda looks away and starts a lighthearted conversation with Raphael about his little sister.

Claude leaves them to their moment and continues toward the library.

Of course that isn't the last he see's of Hilda that night.

Almost as soon as he's returned to his dorm for the night someone knocks on his door. Claude is hardly shocked to find Hilda standing on the other side. Without waiting for an invitation she shoves her way past him and into the room. “Yeah sure, come right on in.”

Hilda smiles a sweet but sharp smile at him, “oh thank you Claude! You know, you are such a gentleman!”

“Isn't it past your bedtime?” He asks, feeling far too tired for the conversation to come, “I thought cute girls like you needed their beauty sleep.”

Her eyes narrow. “You have to know why I'm here.”

“Truly I'm flattered Hilda, but despite evidence to the contrary I don't actually know everything.”

“You make it remarkably difficult to have a serious conversation.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

Hilda stamps her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Claude! You really need to talk to the professor! She's running us ragged and you're our house leader which means you need to speak up for us!”

Claude can feel a headache coming on. “I know Hilda, but what do you want me to do? Nothing I say is going to make her feel better.”

“Are you seriously going to let our professor kill herself in her grief just because you're too scared to own up to your feelings for her?”

“Hilda-”

“Stop making excuses!”

“I tried!” Claude shouts, letting all of his built up frustration out in that single cathartic moment. The anger leaves him almost as soon as it comes. His body sags in defeat. “I already tried talking to her. She... she didn't want to see me.”

For a moment Hilda almost looks sympathetic, but she's standing her ground and won't give him an inch. “Are you going to give up on her so easily?”

“No! I...”

He'd never.

Hilda takes his hand in her own. “Go. Talk to her again.”

“It's late...”

“Now Claude.”

Goddess help him. “What if she's asleep?”

“When was the last time any of us got any actual sleep?”

Point. “I don't know where she is.”

“Where do you think?” Hilda sighs and drops his hand, “stop playing dumb Claude, you're really bad at it.”

With that said, she flicks one of her pigtails off her shoulder and marches out of the room.

He’s run out of excuses.

-

The clash of metal is loud and sharp in the crisp night air. Even before Claude gets anywhere near the training grounds he can already hear the savage clang of a sword against wood. The closer he gets the more that sound rattles in his head like a bell.

Byleth is the source of the noise.

Her movements are vicious as she swings the training sword in her hand against the wooden dummy. Several more dummies lie strewn about in pieces at her feet. Not many are left standing against the wall, lying in wait for Byleth to slaughter them.

The sky is just starting to lighten with the first of the morning's sun, but still Byleth isn’t slowing down at all.

She spares him but a single glance over her shoulder before she throws herself at the dummy with vigor. Byleth lets out a shout as she grips her sword with both hands and slams the dulled edge of the training blade against the body of the dummy over and over again. Eventually the wood gives under the relentless pressure and splinters apart.

Claude watches as she moves toward the dwindling stockpile of intact dummies. She maneuvers one into the place of the recently fallen dummy and begins the process all over again.

He's seen enough. “You gonna save any of those for the rest of us Teach?”

Byleth doesn't respond.

Claude tries again. “Teach?”

“What do you want Claude?” She asks between gritted teeth.

“Nothing,” he says. Already he feels as though he's lost control of the conversation, but he sticks to the script and reminds himself that this is for her. He can't give up. “No that's a lie, I was actually hoping to talk to you.”

“I'm a little busy.”

“You're always busy.”

Byleth's sword comes down against the dummy again. Claude's wrist aches just watching her. “Fine. Talk.”

“I want to talk to you about Jeralt's death.”

That gives her pause for just a moment. “What about it? It happened months ago. It's done.”

“See I don't think it is.” Claude walks along the edge of the training grounds until he can see the professors face. Her jaw is clenched tight, but otherwise she appears perfectly focused and untouchable as always. “Teach-”

“I'm fine” she interrupts before he can even say anything.

“You're not and your recklessness is going to get one of us killed.”

The dummy is cleaved in two with a single blow. “Are you questioning my leadership?”

“Normally? No. You're clearly a skilled leader and I trust you more than I trust most people. When you're letting your emotions make you reckless? Yes. I am.”

“My emotions don't control me.”

Her actions speak contrary to her words, but Claude doesn’t point that out. “Byleth, it's okay to be upset. Your father died, no one would blame you if you took some time to properly grieve.”

She reels on him. “How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine!?”

“You're not and I'm not going to stand by and let this destroy you! Can't you see how you're hurting everyone around you? You're our teacher and our friend. My friend. Please teach, don't make us lose you too.”

That, finally, makes her pause.

A range of emotions flash through her eyes, anger, fear, and grief among what must be a dozen others.

He waits in silence to see which she settles on.

The sword in her hands suddenly clatters to the ground as it slips from her fingers. Claude is almost certain she's going to shout at him again, but she doesn't. Instead she sways forward and falls to her knees.

Claude jumps towards her to catch her by her arms, but she only drags him down with her. His knees ache when they hit the cold stone floor but he doesn't care. His focus is entirely eclipsed by Byleth, as she all but collapses into his chest.

Her hands grip his uniform jacket like letting go would mean the end of her.

With her forehead pressed to his sternum, Byleth lets herself cry.

It's jarring. Claude has never seen her cry before, not even a single tear let alone the open sobs that wrack her body now.

Once more Hilda’s words float through his thoughts. 

A puzzle piece finally fits into place.

At a loss for what else to do he simply curls his arms around her and prays that the pounding of his heart isn't too noticeable.

“I.. I don't know his favorite food” she whispers into the fabric of his coat, “or his favorite color. I d-don't even know how old he was, or the day he was born. I didn't know he was a knight... I don't know how he met my mother and now... I missed my chance to ask. I'll never get that chance back.”

Claude rests his cheek against her soft blue hair but says nothing. He can't imagine what she wants to hear from him right now. It breaks his heart to think she's been carrying all this pain around with her for so long. Nothing he says can fix that.

Byleth keeps talking; “There was something he wanted to tell me but he died before he could. Claude what did he want to say? Why didn't I listen?”

“Teach...”

“I didn't know it could hurt so bad. It feels like there's a hole in my chest. Is that normal?”

“Yeah... feelings hurt sometimes. Especially when the people you love are concerned.”

The people you love... 

“If I had just been faster... I thought that no matter how badly I miscalculated I could just go back and make things right. But I can't make this right. I tried but I can't fix it. He's really gone, and he isn't coming back.”

Claude isn't sure what she means but that.

“What if it's one of the deer next?” She asks softly, “what if I fail you too?”

“I don't know Teach. I can't say what the future holds, but I have faith that you won't let anything happen to any of us.” Claude lifts a hand to run it through her hair, “but you have to let us help you when you're hurting. If you're working so hard to protect us then it's our job to protect you. It would hurt to lose one of us, I know, but it would hurt us just as bad to lose you.”

Carefully Byleth loosens her vice like grip on his clothes and pulls away from him. She doesn't move far, just enough that they can see eye to eye, but Claude misses her warmth anyway. “Thank you, Claude. I'm sorry you had to see me like this.”

“Hey I think considering everything you've been through the past couple of months you're allowed a break down or two. Maybe even a whole dozen.”

Byleth doesn't smile but her expression softens for the first time in months. It's such a relief to see Claude could almost cry.

He takes a deep breath in and out before climbing to his feet and offering Byleth a hand. “Come on, I think a nice cup of tea is in order. It might help you sleep.”

“I... yes thank you.” She takes his hand and lets him pull her up.

Her fingers linger against his as they walk.

-

The weekend rolls around and no one within the monastery has seen or heard from Byleth.

Some of the other students are worried, but The Golden Deer simply take this time to rest and recuperate knowing their professor will come back to them when she is ready.

-

It's Monday; three days after Byleth disappeared without a word.

The Golden Deer diligently gather in their classroom. If the professor still needs time to herself then certainly Manuela or Hanneman will be there to instruct them, but to their surprise no teachers are waiting for them.

They take their seats and simply wait.

Twenty minutes pass.

“Um... do you think the professor forgot to get someone to cover for her?” Ignatz asks, breaking the silence at last.

“It is certainly possible.” Lorenz muses.

Hilda leans back in her seat, twirling her hair around her fingers. “Although I wouldn't mind a day off I am a bit worried... what do you think Claude?”

All eyes in the classroom turn to their house leader. He was the last one to see her, but he doesn’t actually have any answers for them so he shrugs. “I'm sure Teach will be here.”

As if waiting for her cue, Byleth strides into the classroom.

Finally.

The class jumps to their feet and rush to greet her, but Claude stays seated and merely observes.

She looks worn down. Her eyes are bloodshot and deep purple bags are bruised beneath them. Still the class breathes a sigh of relief. If she is allowing them to see her at her worst, then surely the nightmare of the past month is finally over. 

“Oh professor you look awful! Did you sleep at all this weekend?” Hilda asks.

Byleth looks her deer over, taking in their concern. “I'm fine Hilda, or rather... I'm getting there. I... I owe you all an apology. I was too caught up in my own sorrow that I failed to consider your safety and for that I am sorry. I won't let it happen again. You have my word.”

“I think I speak for everyone here when I say apology accepted professor.” Lysithea assures her.

“Here here!” Hilda cheers, “so long as you promise that next time you're hurting you talk to us! We were all really worried you know!”

Byleth smiles, a tiny breakable thing. “I promise.”

Raphael laughs, boisterous and loud as usual, “alright our professors back! We should have a feast to celebrate!”

Without warning Raphael scoops the professor into a hug, but also catches Lorenz, Lysithea and Ignatz in his strong grip. Hilda manages to avoid the hug but only just barely. Lorenz demands to be released but that only makes Raphael hold onto them tighter while he lists all of the food they should eat.

On the other hand, Byleth sinks into the embrace without a complaint. In fact she opens her mouth and laughs.

Even broken and healing she’s beautiful.

For a brief moment all the stress and worries Claude has carried with him since childhood feel easier to shoulder. Right then and there Claude would give just about anything if it meant Byleth could keep smiling.

Claude feels lighter than he has in a long time.

Hilda makes her way over to and nudges him with her elbow. “Do you see what I mean now?”

Yes.

Claude understands now.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact!  
> Red is my favorite color, and yet given the choice between Red Blue and Yellow I always seem to choose yellow  
> Golden Deer  
> Team Instinct  
> Red and Blue get put into these dramatic rivalries so I gravitate toward the silly yellow ones


End file.
